Memories of rituals come flooding back as Twinkies top the news

Published: Thursday, November 22, 2012 at 7:21 p.m.

Last Modified: Thursday, November 22, 2012 at 7:21 p.m.

The smell of freshly opened Twinkies is the strongest of memory triggers. Open a pack and I am immediately back at Bear Creek Elementary School in St. Petersburg, plunging my right hand into a metal Speed Buggy lunch box, bypassing the main course — or any item of nutritional value — and ripping into the Twinkies.

Logically, Twinkies should have grossed me out. I do not like overly sweet treats, and I have an aversion to touching wet or sticky foods. And those spongy Twinkies were unquestionably wet, sticky and sweet. But, man oh man oh man, they tasted good.

Few things fire off endorphins like the taste of Twinkies. The ritual was pleasing, too — opening the pack, savoring the aroma, pausing before the first bite and then eating them slowly and with purpose.

It remains a powerful memory, and I’m not ashamed to say I still imbibe now and then.

Until now.

The Hostess bankruptcy has created a run on Twinkies and other Hostess products. People are desperately stockpiling cream-filled cakes, stuffing domestic corners with arsenals of Twinkies, Ho Hos and Sno Balls. There are barren store shelves and Twinkie bidding wars on eBay. This week, Twinkie news got more air time than the fiscal cliff.

This is a big deal. Hostess products are as much American culture as they are snacks.

Twinkie talk, certainly, has spilled into social media.

“I did have a Twinkie this week,” Ocala’s Gary Rigby noted on Facebook. “The thing that struck me first: the smell. When I opened the package the smell was EXACTLY what I remembered from a time when Twinkies would be found in my lunchbox in elementary school. You could never describe a smell, but you recognize it immediately.”

Some on Facebook mourned the loss of jobs. Some decried poor management in the cream-filled cake industry. Some shared Twinkie memories. And some recalled their childhood lunch boxes that served as sacred Twinkie transport units, an important part of that beloved ritual.

“In my Holly Hobby lunchbox days, Twinkies had moderate trading power. You may get someone to swap out, oh say a homemade cookie for one. However, once I graduated to the Ms. America lunchbox, I learned that Twinkies were the low food on the treat-food chain,” noted Ocala’s Kelly Vanauker-Ergle, a self-described “Ho Ho Girl” who, apparently, was Twinkie bartering in the wrong circles.

Twinkies were the gold standard at Bear Creek Elementary. And now that supply is threatened, demand has surged to bloodthirsty levels. Perhaps this is capitalism’s finest moment, and, perhaps, this crisis is not over. Hostess seems bound for bankruptcy, but America clings to last-minute prospects, someone who can take the reins and say, “You know what? This is a Twinkie! What fool cannot sell a Twinkie?”

I have not written off the Twinkie. Somehow, it will survive and enchant new generations. And, make no mistake, its trading power will far surpass cookies, juice boxes, chips and, certainly, the Euro.

So I implore all rich people to consider swooping in and saving Hostess. No government bailouts — yet — but simply a smart, private investor or two who subscribes to a key business principle: IT’S A TWINKIE!!

<p>The smell of freshly opened Twinkies is the strongest of memory triggers. Open a pack and I am immediately back at Bear Creek Elementary School in St. Petersburg, plunging my right hand into a metal Speed Buggy lunch box, bypassing the main course — or any item of nutritional value — and ripping into the Twinkies.</p><p>Logically, Twinkies should have grossed me out. I do not like overly sweet treats, and I have an aversion to touching wet or sticky foods. And those spongy Twinkies were unquestionably wet, sticky and sweet. But, man oh man oh man, they tasted good.</p><p>Few things fire off endorphins like the taste of Twinkies. The ritual was pleasing, too — opening the pack, savoring the aroma, pausing before the first bite and then eating them slowly and with purpose.</p><p>It remains a powerful memory, and I'm not ashamed to say I still imbibe now and then.</p><p>Until now.</p><p>The Hostess bankruptcy has created a run on Twinkies and other Hostess products. People are desperately stockpiling cream-filled cakes, stuffing domestic corners with arsenals of Twinkies, Ho Hos and Sno Balls. There are barren store shelves and Twinkie bidding wars on eBay. This week, Twinkie news got more air time than the fiscal cliff.</p><p>This is a big deal. Hostess products are as much American culture as they are snacks.</p><p>Twinkie talk, certainly, has spilled into social media.</p><p>“I did have a Twinkie this week,” Ocala's Gary Rigby noted on Facebook. “The thing that struck me first: the smell. When I opened the package the smell was EXACTLY what I remembered from a time when Twinkies would be found in my lunchbox in elementary school. You could never describe a smell, but you recognize it immediately.”</p><p>Some on Facebook mourned the loss of jobs. Some decried poor management in the cream-filled cake industry. Some shared Twinkie memories. And some recalled their childhood lunch boxes that served as sacred Twinkie transport units, an important part of that beloved ritual.</p><p>“In my Holly Hobby lunchbox days, Twinkies had moderate trading power. You may get someone to swap out, oh say a homemade cookie for one. However, once I graduated to the Ms. America lunchbox, I learned that Twinkies were the low food on the treat-food chain,” noted Ocala's Kelly Vanauker-Ergle, a self-described “Ho Ho Girl” who, apparently, was Twinkie bartering in the wrong circles.</p><p>Twinkies were the gold standard at Bear Creek Elementary. And now that supply is threatened, demand has surged to bloodthirsty levels. Perhaps this is capitalism's finest moment, and, perhaps, this crisis is not over. Hostess seems bound for bankruptcy, but America clings to last-minute prospects, someone who can take the reins and say, “You know what? This is a Twinkie! What fool cannot sell a Twinkie?”</p><p>I have not written off the Twinkie. Somehow, it will survive and enchant new generations. And, make no mistake, its trading power will far surpass cookies, juice boxes, chips and, certainly, the Euro.</p><p>So I implore all rich people to consider swooping in and saving Hostess. No government bailouts — yet — but simply a smart, private investor or two who subscribes to a key business principle: IT'S A TWINKIE!!</p><p>Thank you, and God bless America.</p>